On Tuesday, Rihanna apologized (sort of) to the 150 music journalists whose accompanied her on her seven-day, seven-country tour that was billed as an epic, debauched junket and devolved into a grueling trudge to promote her new album “Unapologetic.” The singer had invited the members of the press to join her on her so-called 777 tour (seven days, seven countries, seven concerts on board a chartered Boeing 777) — although they failed to get more than a glimpse of RiRi the entire week.

“I know you guys got barely any dirt,” the 24-year old singer told the plane-bound journalists on the penultimate day of the tour, according to the Hollywood Reporter. “But I had to be good. I still sound like s—. It’s impossible to spend time with everybody, and I’m sorry I didn’t. Usually I will be partying back here [in coach], balls to the walls. But I had to pay attention and take care of my health since I was on the plane all the time.”

It wasn’t just the Barbadian chanteuse’s elusiveness that irked the press, however. It was the lack of sleep, lack of food, lack of water, lack of showers and lack of bathroom breaks on the endless trip that brought them to the brink of mutiny. The journalists took their predicament in good humor, it seems, chanting “Just one quote!” and handing out “Missing: Rihanna” flyers while one of their Australian colleagues sprinted naked down the aisles. But you can only laugh for so long about having to pee really badly.

Gawker has posted a brilliant, scathing take on the trip from one of the 777 journalists. Here are some great excerpts, but you really should head on over to Gawker to read the whole thing.

On Rihanna’s stage routine:

“The shows are hilariously rote. “What the f— is up, Mexico City?” “What the f— is up, Toronto?” “What the f— is up, Paris?” “What the f— is up, [Insert Epcot Center City Here]?” followed by a tight sixty minutes of lip synching and lethargic thigh-slapping.”

On her lip-synching:

“She barely does any of her own singing, which isn’t a huge pearl-clutcher, but at least Britney danced a little. For Rihanna, just licking her lips during a song constitutes a taxing, elaborate physical routine that deserves a couple of mid-performance tequila shots.”

On her product placement:

“The parts we love the best are when she “ad libs,” gives a “special fan” an HTC phone (hahahahhahahahah), or pretends like she “just heard” someone request “What’s My Name?”, which she somehow sings while holding the mic at her crotch, air-chewing invisible Big League Chew and staring into the wings.”

In conclusion, Gawker’s correspondent wrote, “If you resent the Rihannaplane 150 that’s fine… But please picture what it would be like going to your job if there was no toilet, kitchen, water fountain, faucet, or lunch break, and instead of going home at the end of the night, they made you wait standing up in an airport while the person responsible for determining when you go home laid around getting f—ed up and wearing European money like pasties.”

Rihanna’s take on the press plane was somewhat different. “I was glad I did this, absolutely,” she told journalists on Tuesday. “I want to thank everyone for making this trip the s—.”